Rough by Sara Fields (ereader iphone txt) 📕

unique about their gaits because I couldn’t see their faces. The one with brown eyes rolled his right ankle. I’d have to watch that one even more closely.

“She sure cleans up beautifully. She’ll be a worthy gift,” the man with the multicolored eyes murmured. He stood at the center of the configuration, leading me to believe that he was likely the leader.

“Dinner will begin soon. We should hurry this along,” green eyes offered.

“He will certainly be pleased. If his new rank doesn’t make him happy, this pretty omega certainly will,” brown eyes declared.

“Indeed,” the center man replied. “Come now, it’s time. You will follow us.”

They turned to walk out of the room, and I did as I was told. For a moment, I fought with the instinct to run. I knew better though. I was at the center of a Cult stronghold. If I tried to escape, it wouldn’t be long before I was caught and running wasn’t what I was sent here to do. I was here to learn, to observe, and to gather as much information about the enemy as I could.

So, I followed. I didn’t know if I was walking to my death or into the cruel hands of one of the top members of the Cult. I observed my surroundings as I walked, taking in the opulence and luxury all around me. From the handwoven carpets beneath my feet to the intricately embroidered tapestries on the walls and windows, everything screamed ancient wealth. Some of the curtains were drawn, but a few were open, allowing the sunlight to stream in. When we passed one, I deliberately slowed my steps to take in the view.

Kingsworth spread out all around us for miles. It appeared we were at the center of the city and as I studied the lands a bit more closely, I realized that I could only be in one place.

I was in one of the upper towers of the castle.

The cultist with brown eyes turned back.

“Don’t dawdle, omega,” he warned. He turned away briskly and that’s when I noticed something very particular about the way he walked. It was as if he was hiding a limp. I watched him more closely as I picked up my pace, noticing that on occasion that he forgot to conceal whatever old injury it was. Beneath the robes, he was hiding an injured left knee.

The other two didn’t show any distinctive traits that I could tell other than the color of their eyes.

They led me into a grand room, and at once I was taken with the thick fur carpets. I lifted my eyes to peruse the fine oil paintings along the walls depicting warriors on the battlefield and royalty in fancy robes, and that’s when a man cleared his throat.

At the center of the room was a menacing throne built of what appeared to be human bones and gigantic ivory elephant tusks. It was a terrifying sight, but not nearly as scary as the man standing next to it.

He was the biggest man I’d ever seen. I didn’t even have to scent the air to tell that he was an alpha. Instead, his aroma called to me. Without warning, my heart beat harder and the blood pumping through my veins rushed even faster. I swallowed, trying to rein in my body’s response as much as I could.

Forest green irises bored into mine, capturing me in their intensity and holding me captive. I couldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried. His jawline tensed and I took note of the thick beard covering his face. His hair was dark chocolate and tied back in a ponytail. The sides of his scalp were shaved bare, revealing dark black tattoos that signified the mark of a battle-hardened warrior. There was a series of black notches that disappeared underneath the heavy furs around his shoulders, marks that signified every man that he’d killed himself.

I recognized the pelts he wore on his thick, muscled frame. They originated from far north, fearsome wolves large enough to eat a man whole. Once men, they were rumored to have once shifted under the light of the moon and never returned to their human form. Their furs were exceedingly rare. Many men died trying to claim the riches that came with the sale of one. This man was wearing several whole ones himself.

I swallowed heavily, fearing him already. He cocked his head to the side, studying me intently, and I held my head high, forcing myself to appear as though I was unafraid and undaunted by his menacing appearance. He smirked slightly, as if he could read my thoughts, and I narrowed my eyes at him in challenge.

“What is this?” he asked. He sounded annoyed.

His voice was like butter and my nipples pebbled almost instantly. I hoped that they wouldn’t show through the thin fabric of the dress. The attendants hadn’t given me a bra or panties to wear, forcing me to be exceedingly aware of my nakedness beneath it.

“A gift for you, Magnar. A proper gift for an alpha that is to be crowned as king of our magnificent city,” the center Cultist offered boldly.

The king glared at me for a long moment before he turned away.

“I did not ask for a wife,” he growled.

I don’t know why, but his rejection made the air rush out of my lungs. A cold simmering feeling rolled in my belly and I made myself stand tall. I took a deep shaky breath and glared back at him. I don’t know why, but it hurt.

“It is a gift from me, my king,” the bicolored Cultist offered.

Magnar sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze returned to me. He pointedly looked me up and down, pausing rather arrogantly at my chest and at the cusp of my hips.

“Omegas make alphas weak,” he spat. His glare deepened and I couldn’t shake the feeling in my chest that not only did he not want me, but he was also disgusted